


Burned

by laurelofthestory



Category: Terraria
Genre: Character Death, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Eldritch, Gen, Graphic Description, Horror, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelofthestory/pseuds/laurelofthestory
Summary: In the Underworld, certain mistakes carry dire consequences.





	Burned

**Author's Note:**

> So I realized I never posted this here, despite writing it and posting it on Tumblr back in December. I guess I didn't think it was good enough at the time?
> 
> After an anxiety-filled run through looting Hell, I got a thought in my head about just how easy it is to accidentally summon the Wall of Flesh…and just how terrifying it would actually be, especially to someone who wasn’t expecting it. Some Calamity stuff is mentioned, but it’s inconsequential, just based on my loadout and progress when I went in.

It was easy to feel invincible after a few choice victories; to feel like it’s impossible to fall, and to let this newfound pride carry you forward for better or for worse. And it was this pride that led the Terrarian deeper and deeper into the caves, until dirt turned to ash and the smell of sulphur filled her nose and as realization hit she _smiled_ instead of cowered.

She had over prepared, and so the early threats of Terraria had all fallen easily before her; from the king of all slimes, to the desert and Corruption worms, to an entire goblin army. Her demonite armor was still new and fresh, a layer of protection that bolstered her confidence. The Minishark that had shred through so many enemies was at her belt, and a goblin warblade was lashed to her back.

And so, when her Nightmare Pickaxe broke through the last of the ash to reveal the fabled Underworld spread before her, she decided she might be able to go exploring for a little bit, at least, before heading home. She’d heard countless stories of the Underworld’s previous tenants and the riches left behind for those who would dare to seek them, and decided these would help her get a head start on defeating the dungeon’s keeper.

Pillaging the Underworld involved quite a bit of trial and error, the Terrarian soon found. Navigating the area was difficult given there was much more lava than ground, requiring lots of bridges and ropes and skilled use of her grappling hook. The ruined obsidian houses contained pots holding large quantities of money, potions, and special arrows, but they also contained locked chests she could not figure out how to open, no matter how much she tried--once she got frustrated, she simply left torches by them and vowed to ask the Guide about them later.

And then there was the Underworld’s greatest resource, Hellstone; nestled into the sides of ashen crags overhanging lava pools. The ore burned to the touch, even through her armor, and she found out the hard way that the material released lava when it was broken, making extracting it a tricky process. But stubborn as ever, she persevered, setting up whatever scaffolding she could to mine as much of it as possible.

Despite being ruined, the Underworld certainly still had inhabitants, and these were what the Terrarian was most wary of. However, her tension quickly faded away as her exploration continued; her trusty armor and a few well-timed healing potions seemed to mitigate most of the danger, and most creatures here were at least close to familiar. Bats and slimes, she had all too much experience with--the worms were slightly more intimidating, but in the end didn’t put up much of a fight.

Overall, it wasn’t nearly as horrible as the legends made it sound, she mused as she mined another chunk of Hellstone. Sure, it was quite hot, the air was stuffy and full of soot, and what ground there was tended to be unstable, but she’d had nightmares of much worse in her childhood. Even the heavy smell of burning and sulphur eventually became tolerable. She honestly preferred this to the frigid ice caverns, where one wrong step would send you plummeting through fragile ice into chilled water that made you feel like your bones had instantly frozen. She could never get used to that feeling.

The only real annoyances were the fire imps who’d teleport about and shoot fireballs at her from every direction, and the leathery-winged demons who’d circle overhead and fling magic at her at any opportunity--the latter of which were starting to become major nuisances as she mined out in the open.

Another pulse of infernal magic hit her in the side while she was focused on mining, feeling as if it sliced straight through her armor. She hissed and staggered forward, dangerously close to the edge of her scaffolding. The magic made her vision flicker and dim, leaving it nearly impossible to tell the Hellstone she was looking for from the ash around it, and she ground her teeth, turning to look over her shoulder.

Three of them, this time, all circling around above her like particularly ugly vultures. They tended to come in groups and had been badgering her for the entire expedition, letting out guttural noises of triumph as they let their magical scythes fly. It was _really_ getting irritating, especially when they’d all fire at once and a torrent of scythes would fly into her face, rendering her completely unable to see and usually forced to down a healing potion.

Shooting them an invisible glare under her helmet, she set aside her pickaxe and pulled the Minishark from her belt, leveling it at the demons and firing several rounds into the nearest one. It shrieked in pain as a flurry of bullets pierced its leathery flesh, suddenly swerving to the left as its wing was punctured. It tried to conjure up another several demon scythes to send her way, but only managed to summon two before another round sent it spiraling downwards into the lava, not to reappear again. She dodged the scythes as they sped towards her, then turned her attention to the demon’s friends, who were also gearing up to attack--one with scythes, the other preparing to dive bomb her. Another few bullets quickly dispatched the magic-wielding one, and as the second one lunged at her, she stepped to one side and expertly pulled the warblade from her back, chopping its head off in one motion and watching it continue flying past her for a few moments until it seemed to realize it was dead and dropped like a stone.

Yes, overall this was going well. She re-sheathed her blade, blinking the lingering magical darkness from her eyes and turning back to retrieve her pickaxe.

She caught motion out of the corner of her eye and glanced up, a groan escaping her as she caught sight of _another_ demon flying towards her. It was still a ways off, over the lava pool next to the one she was mining at, but it had definitely noticed her and was probably going to call its friends if she didn’t deal with it. With a grunt, she lifted the Minishark again and aimed carefully.

She heard its cry of pain even from this distance and saw it sink lower, even as it continued flying towards her. It tried to dodge to the side, but she simply led her shots, peppering it with bullets. The demon quickly forced itself upward, as if trying to escape from her, but another few shots finished it off, and it let out a final shriek of what sounded like fear as it dropped, its wings causing it to glide backward even after it was already dead.

It seemed the demon had been carrying something, as she noticed a tiny speck of color falling straight down towards the lava pit from the spot where she’d killed the demon. She squinted hard, but couldn’t make out the falling object, and knew she likely wouldn’t be able to catch it before the lava consumed it. It was somewhat disappointing, but the object looked too small to be anything she could use, and she dismissed it as nothing important she couldn't get from another demon, holstering the Minishark and taking up her pickaxe once more.

She turned her back on the falling object, intent on continuing her task and then returning home to brag about it.

She heard a slight hiss as the whatever-it-was burned.

The ground underneath her _lurched_ , sending her stumbling backwards and flailing her arms to try and keep balance, nearly losing her grip on her pickaxe. The trembling grew stronger and stronger until she was forced forward onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath as the air around her turned clammy and her chest went tight. A pit of dread churned in her stomach, though she couldn’t pinpoint why, and she fought to get to her feet, teeth gritted and hands fumbling for the Minishark again.

A _horrible_ smell filled her nose as she tried to stand up, causing her to cough and retch violently, unable to stand. The smell was absolutely indescribable; like the Underworld’s normal smoke and sulphur taken up to eleven, mixed with death and disease, mixed with meat that had long ago rotted, mixed with something _else_ she couldn’t pinpoint that made her head swim and her thoughts race and her breath feel cold in her throat, her insides twisting into knots.

The air around her seemed to vibrate, and it took her a moment to realize that it was a _sound_ \--guttural, deafening, animalistic, almost like some sort of nasty gargle mixed with a beast’s roar. She struggled to suppress her coughing long enough to stand up and look over the ashy ridge towards where she thought the sound was coming from.

She found the source.

Her mind went numb, and it felt as if she’d totally lost control of her body as she opened her mouth and _screamed._

It was terrible, cursed, a _thing_ that should not be and that she almost could not comprehend. It _filled_ the world in front of her, end to end and top to bottom, a writhing, roiling mass of rotting, charred _flesh_ . Multiple bloodshot eyes larger than the Eye of Cthulhu peered out from the conglomeration, all fixated on her with burning intent and an awful _knowing_ glint, and it had countless mouths scattered within it, each boasting a plethora of ever-gnashing teeth each taller than she was.

The thing roared again, and she found she couldn’t breathe, her whole body frozen. It felt as if her lungs were being _squeezed_ painfully, and her heart hammered at an impossible speed. She dimly registered that the thing seemed to be drawing closer to her, but she could not think, her whole mind consumed with absolute _horror._

One of its mouths belched. At least two leeches flew out of it, diving through the air towards her. Veins poured out of one of the other mouths, each tendril holding a mouth of its own eagerly snapping at the air as they reached towards her. The world went blurry, and she found she had the sudden urge to either laugh or sob, as she knew with maddening certainty that she was staring into the face of her death.

She felt herself move. The world spun. She turned her back on the thing and leaped toward the nearest ash outcropping a few feet away. Her mind cleared just enough to tell her to _run, run away_ and _kill it, kill it, kill it_ and she gripped her Minishark tight and rested the barrel over her shoulder and fired and fired and _fired_ without care to aim because what was the point of aiming, it was _everywhere_.

Another jump. Another landing. A building ahead of her. She held the Minishark with one hand and her grappling hook with the other, hooking the side of the building and launching herself over top of it onto more ash. She dared a glance back. The abomination seemed to twist and _flow_ around the buildings, conforming to the shape of the terrain and refusing to be slowed.

More running. Jumping. Shooting. Stumbling into the lava, feeling a burning up her legs and screaming and leaping out and continuing on because she didn’t dare stop. Killing a leech with her warblade, trying to keep ahead of the myriad mouths on veins, another leap, another fall. A fire imp’s projectile struck her in the side; she barely felt it, she barely felt herself burning, she just kept going.

Flashes of purple light and the horrible _sounds_ of it moving and belching and roaring as if it wanted nothing more than to erase her from this planet. She stumbled off a building, fell too far, gasped as pain shot up her leg and she was forced to her knees, screwing her eyes shut, mind blank. She could feel its secondary mouths biting at and through her armor.

She felt when the wall passed over her. She felt herself surrounded by it, pressed in on, limbs tugged in all directions as if it were trying to assimilate her.

Then it was over. She dared to open her eyes and raise her head. The view of the back of the wall was as grotesque as the front of it, but...it was moving _away_ from her, and this side didn’t seem to have the mouths on veins. She dared to breathe, dared to try and stand and fumble for a healing potion, a flicker of hope finally breaking through the sheer revulsion.

It was a bad dream. A terrible nightmare. She could go home and she could wake up.

A flicker of movement. Something shot out of one of the mouths on the back of the wall, and she stood frozen as it flew towards her. It was almost like one of the tendrils that held its extra mouths, but thicker, more mobile, twisting and undulating through the air. She found herself unable to look away.

It caught her, wrapping around her middle and _squeezing._ She was pulled off her feet into the air. She could not scream, for she had no air left, and she simply stared ahead numbly. It filled her vision and her world as she was inexorably pulled towards it.

The life drained from her even as she was sucked into the mouth, and she found she did not even have the energy to be afraid anymore, even as she was consumed by the wall’s fleshy embrace--confidence and all.

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this inspired me to make an 'aftermath' piece about the Guide's reaction to an accidental summoning (needless to say, he and everyone else back at this Terrarian's base were quite startled), but it didn't fit the tone, so here this ends.


End file.
